


Draco Malfoy's Very Bad Day

by katsukiidream



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Boggarts, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Draco Malfoy Has a Crush, Draco Malfoy Needs a Hug, Fluff, Good Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter is Bad at Feelings, Hogwarts Third Year, Light Angst, M/M, POV Draco Malfoy, draco malfoy has WAVY hair idc fight me, for like a paragraph, it's not even mentioned anyway bye, protect my boys pls leave some kudos, tiny bit POV Harry Potter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-16 12:41:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29207547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katsukiidream/pseuds/katsukiidream
Summary: Defence Against the Dark Arts with Professor Lupin. Draco's up next. Let's just say his boggart is not whatanyoneexpects.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 5
Kudos: 155





	Draco Malfoy's Very Bad Day

**Author's Note:**

> repost under a different pseud because people in my life were finding this lol bye

Draco Malfoy was not having a good day. 

Earlier, he had woken up to a petty shouting match between Pansy and Blaise: apparently Pansy had eaten Blaise's sugar quills. Really, Draco knew it was Crabbe, but he was just too tired to say it.

Now, at a breakfast that had taken far too long for his dorm-mates to get ready for, Harry Potter sauntered into the Great Hall with hair messed up and glasses askew (so looking pretty much the standard) and Draco felt his heart leap when he directed a tired grin towards his friends at the Gryffindor table before drifting over there. 

'Oi, mate,' a whisper in his ear jolted him from his thoughts. 'You're staring again.' 

He shook himself out of his stupor and shot a glare at Blaise. 

'I don't know what you're talking about,' he replied, aggressively stabbing a sausage before deciding he wanted nothing to do with it.

Potter was laughing, exposing his impossibly kissable neck. Draco couldn't seem to stop tapping his foot under the table. The Great Hall was hot, the air stifling, the atmosphere seemingly swallowing him whole with no chance of escape.

He breathed out shakily, rubbing his tired eyes. 'I'm leaving,' he stated finally, setting his glass of pumpkin juice down a little too roughly, eyeing but eventually leaving a letter from his parents sitting on the table. 

Pansy's head shot up in surprise, eyes following Draco as he rose from his seat and picked up his bag. 'But we have Defence first-'

‘I'll meet you there,' he snapped, head turned to the side to look at her. She gave a small nod accompanied by a frown, eyes darting back down to her plate. Once satisfied everyone was done interrogating him, he cast one last glance towards Potter and left the hall with an irritated huff.

*** 

‘If everyone could turn their attention to the front of the classroom.’ 

Draco shoved Crabbe over a bit as he leaned against the wall, shushing a rambling Pansy.

Before slipping discreetly into Professor Lupin’s classroom around five seconds prior to the doors slamming in his face, Draco had spent a good ten minutes looking in the bathroom mirror, desperately trying to figure out how to calm his blushing cheeks and, as per, why the hell he was so bloody infatuated with Harry Potter. He seemed to ask himself that question at least ten times a day. 

He hadn’t even noticed the mysterious rattling wardrobe standing at the front of the room. His eyes were trained on his speccy git standing thirty feet away from him, his gaggle of Gryffindors stood around him. The desks and chairs had been cleared off to the back, so everyone stood in a loose crowd throughout the room, wide eyes trained on the professor. 

The wardrobe shook once more while Lupin made his way to the front. ‘Now,’ he started, surveying the students. Draco shifted, already bored. ‘Would anyone like to hazard a guess as to what is inside this wardrobe?’ The professor gestured somewhere behind him as someone else piped up. 

‘That’s a boggart, sir.’ Draco only barely recognised the voice as that of Dean Thomas. Another Gryffindor, perhaps.

‘Very good, Mr Thomas.’

Draco decidedly tuned out then, only capturing snippets of what was being said. He caught the word _ridiculous _when the entire class obediently returned it in chorus to the professor, and absently thought that was an adequate way to describe the class in general.__

__He was only drawn out of his musings when Pansy grabbed his arm and hauled him into a quickly forming line down the centre of the room. Potter was somewhere near the front of the line._ _

__Not that he cared._ _

__Draco watched as Weasley stepped up to the wardrobe with a little push from Granger. The redhead squeaked slightly when a large spider leapt out, advancing slowly, pincers clipping together._ _

__‘Didn’t know weasels were afraid of spiders,’ he heard Pansy drawl, elbowing Draco in the side. Crabbe laughed from somewhere behind him, but he could only manage a small smirk in Pansy’s direction as he watched the spider slip and slide about with the recent addition of some bright red roller-skates._ _

__Soon enough, it was Draco’s turn. He’d seen enough people face the boggart to know what to do, but as for what to expect, he had no clue. Would it be the Dark Lord? Surely not. Draco certainly wasn’t scared of a pasty snake-man whose entire act was to be over-dramatic. Could it be his father? Merlin forbid – but it was possible. He half suspected it might be his own corpse, or something embarrassingly stupid like that._ _

__He stepped up to the wardrobe, eyed it sceptically, but stuck his chin in the air anyway. He wasn’t about to look _weak _in front of the prissy Gryffindors. Much less his saint scarhead, anyway.___ _

____Draco frowned. In front of him, the boggart was taking an awfully long time to decide – it seemed to flick between images of, much to his dismay, a particular snake, a flash of long blond hair and a cane, and some other figure that he couldn’t quite decipher. His wand was raised in anticipation of the creature, and some rather concerned murmurs were starting to grow louder behind him._ _ _ _

____He saw Lupin stand up out of the corner of his eye. The professor opened his mouth to speak just as the boggart seemed to decide._ _ _ _

____Out of the angry cloud popped an equally angry figure._ _ _ _

____One Harry Potter, complete with messy hair and wonky glasses, eyes flashing with a furious glare and a face like thunder._ _ _ _

____***_ _ _ _

____Draco stood, frozen in place, as he received an onslaught of verbal abuse from the shorter boy in front of him. As much as he himself wasn’t moving - and it seemed about the same for everyone else in the room, from what he could tell – his entire frame was trembling, his wand having been lowered quite a while ago._ _ _ _

____The attack’s themes ranged from his father, to his mother, from how he’d probably become a death eater one day to how he probably had a crush on Voldemort as well – because he was a pouf. He was a coward, just like everyone else in his family. He had no idea how long it went on, but no one seemed to be trying to stop it. They weren’t doing much of anything except gawking at him, really._ _ _ _

____Then came the worst part. Boggart-Harry took a final step towards him, looked him dead in the eyes and said, loud enough for the whole room to hear, ‘I could never love someone like you. You disgust me. A Malfoy-’ he spat, looking him up and down, ‘-doesn’t deserve it.’ Draco let out a pathetic whimper and screwed his eyes shut, bracing himself as Harry raised his wand, pointing it at him and making to cast a spell._ _ _ _

____Only he never got there. A flash of blue light from his left, a rushed incantation and there was a baby in a basket at his feet, making grabby hands up at him and babbling incoherently. A scar on its forehead was glowing a bright red._ _ _ _

____Draco raised his head to see the real Potter had broken off from his gang of Gryffindors, and was now standing to the side of him, wand still raised, staring bemusedly at his baby form now crawling towards him. The room slowly broke out into hesitant giggles._ _ _ _

____Potter held out a surprisingly strong leg, the baby now attached and hanging off it like a koala bear – some muggle creature he’d heard about in muggle studies (in Draco’s defence, the creature was extremely cute, and it’s not like it was _human _, so he had no plights in enjoying learning about it, even if it was from the muggle world).___ _ _ _

______He blinked. Enough about koala bears. In front of him, Harry had picked the baby up and was holding it out in front of him, eyeing it incredulously. He set it back in its cradle and it whisked back into the wardrobe, cutting the miniature Potter’s chuckles off as the door slammed, the knob turned, and the lock clicked shut. It went back to rattling threateningly._ _ _ _ _ _

______A flash of alarm shot through him as he realised Harry was making a move to turn towards him. What was he supposed to say to _that _?___ _ _ _ _ _

________So, after some very short-lived deliberation about what-for-the-sake-of-Merlin he should do, he took the only route he could think of. The Malfoy route, or perhaps the Slytherin one? Who knew – certainly not Draco, for his mind was on other things as he bolted out of the room as fast as he could manage._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________***_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________‘Mate,’ Harry heard from his right, receiving an elbow to the ribs. ‘You wanna go sort that out?’ He turned to see Ron next to him, watching the door Malfoy had fled through in a panic. He was surprised to find he was no longer where he thought he was, that the line had somehow reconstructed itself, and Harry was now back at the side of the room. Business in class seemed to be as usual._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________‘Why me?’ he spluttered, coming out of his shock with a jolt, rubbing his side._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________There was a blush burning on his cheeks, he could feel it._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________The events that had played out not ten minutes ago were buzzing around in his head. He had watched his own form hurl abuse at a completely unsuspecting Draco Malfoy – one that was in love with him, apparently. He’d then had himself – as a _baby _\- attached to his leg like a koala bear.  
It was all a bit mad.___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________To the side of him, Ron looked a bit green. Something was swirling in his own stomach, something that felt suspiciously like butterflies._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Why on Earth were they there?_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________***_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________For Merlin’s sake, Malfoy, where did you go?_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Harry was running down the corridor at a speed that should be considered illegal, but it was best not to dwell on that. He had tried his best to refrain from pulling out the Marauder’s Map to find Draco, bearing in mind Professor Lupin had warned him very sternly against it, and it probably wasn’t the best idea to be using it without his invisibility cloak anyway. Only now, he didn’t really have much of a choice. All things considered; a frightened Malfoy was a fast Malfoy._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________He tugged the folded parchment out of the inside pocket of his robe and ducked into an unused corridor before uttering a rushed _‘I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.’ _, his wand pointed into the centre of the stained paper. Ink blossomed from the middle, scrawling letters that he still didn’t quite understand, but he wasted no time in tearing it open and finding the easily recognisable _Draco Malfoy _._____ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________He was… hang on, that didn’t make sense. The boy was in that corridor. The very passageway Harry was standing in._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________Harry turned around slowly, raising his head to look at the end of the corridor, where confused green eyes met panicked grey._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________***_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________It seemed Draco was always running. He really needed to learn to stop doing that. Every problem that arose, he legged it – destination unknown. Usually it was to his father, as all _his _problems could be solved by his money. Unfortunately that favour was seldom extended to his son, so again he’d run, probably to his mother, who would sigh and say as a Malfoy, he’d have to learn to deal with it.___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________And so he was running. Down three secret corridors, up two deserted staircases, through one concealed passageway. He could almost _feel _Potter on his trail, hunting him down with the speed of a hippogriff and the agility of a kelpie.___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________‘Malfoy! I-’ Potter seemed to cut himself off. ‘Draco!’_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________He came to an abrupt halt at Potter using his given name. His footsteps continued and Draco felt himself shoved against the wall. The look he saw in the boy’s eyes was not what he expected to see._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________Concern and guilt were painted all over his face and swirling in his annoyingly bright, emerald-green eyes. He didn’t look even remotely angry, which was a stark contrast to the livid image of boggart-Potter burned into Draco’s mind._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________‘Why are you running?’ He was out of breath and still had a firm grip on Draco’s robes, but his eyes were trained on the end of the corridor they were in, probably in an effort to hide the hurt clearly displayed on his features._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________Draco blinked at him. He forced a scowl onto his face and shoved Potter off as hard as he could, smoothing the creases in his robes and avoiding the other boy’s eyes. ‘It’s none of your business,’ he said in a flat voice. His lower lip was trembling, and his hands were shaking as they ran over his front._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________Draco’s breath caught in his throat as Potter suddenly grabbed both of his hands in his and moved them so they were clasped between them. He looked up slowly to see Harry’s eyes boring into his known._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________‘Yes, it is. And you know what? I don’t care.’_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________________Draco weakly tried to pull his hands from Potter’s grip, embarrassed by how much he enjoyed the feeling of Potter’s small, calloused hands in his soft, slender ones. He could feel the flush burning on his face and tried hard to maintain what little dignity he had left. That wasn’t much considering his hands were being held by none other than Harry Potter, who was looking at him like he was the only important thing left in the world. It was a feeling _he _often felt when he looked at him from across the Great Hall, but wasn’t allowed to show for fear other people would read the expression perfectly and taunt him until the end of his days at Hogwarts.___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________It was crazy how one boy could make his whole image come crashing down to the floor in a matter of words._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________‘You’re making a mistake,’ he murmured, looking out of the window at the other end of the corridor. It looked peaceful outside, much calmer than the chaos in Draco’s own heart and head. ‘This isn’t right.’_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________‘Yes, and I told you, I don’t care,’ came the reply. He turned his head once again to look at him just as Potter stood on his tiptoes and planted a swift kiss on his lips. A bolt of electricity zapped him from his head to his toes, leaving him with a light head and unsteady feet. If not for Potter’s firm grasp on his forearms, he surely would have gone crashing to the floor._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________***_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________Draco hadn’t been kissed very many times in his life. Much less by his self-proclaimed ‘arch enemy’ in a deserted corridor, in the middle of a Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson. It was sort of ironic, really._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________________Thinking back on it now, three years later, with Harry Potter beside him, fingers intertwined under a tree on the bank of the Great Lake, perhaps that day wasn’t so bad after all._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _


End file.
